


The Roof

by Felflowne



Category: Kill la Kill
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Kill La Kill AU, Kissing, Smoking, human!senketsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2230617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felflowne/pseuds/Felflowne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The roof is where Ryuko goes when she needs some peace. She doesn't expect company. Kill La Kill AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roof

The last thing Ryuko had expected, when she had snuck away to the roof to smoke, was company.

But sure enough, here was company.

Getting to the roof wasn't easy. She knew for a fact that Mr and Mrs Himura didn't know she could get up here. That would surely be another black mark against her, but she couldn't find it in her to care. Her adoptive parents were far more tied up with their biological child at the moment.

She heaved a sigh, stubbed out her cigarette, and sprang nimbly to her feet, walking towards her companion, who was struggling on the tricky, overhanging, part of the climb.

“Come on,” she sighed, gripping his hand and leaning back to give him the support he needed.

Senketsu scrambled onto the tile and clung on, breathing hard. She rolled her eyes.

“You know, if you fall and break your back, they'll blame me,” she snapped, stepping away and reaching in her jacket pocket for her lighter. He pulled himself into a sitting position and stared at her disapprovingly.

“Smoking is bad for you.”

“So is scaling the outside of your house, genius,” she replied, lighting up, unconcerned. “I didn't even know you knew how to get up here. Well, when I say _knew_...”

She took a drag and let it out slowly, feeling it calm her as it always did.

“I knew that you came up here, and it seemed the safest place. I apologise if I am disturbing you,” he returned. His voice was cold and formal, but, amusingly enough, he actually sounded slightly petulant and hurt.

“Ah, shut up,” she laughed, her voice light and friendly despite the words, “and quit being so stiff. What brings you here, to my neck of the woods?”

“My mother got the books out,” he returned flatly. 

“What books?”

He winced.

“The photobooks. They say they've narrowed it down to three, and now they want me to have a say.”

Ryuko suddenly understood. That stupid freaking business arrangement dressed up as nuptials.

“So just tell 'em you don't want to get married!” She barked. “Grow a spine, damnit!”

He glared at her.

“All of them are relatives of very important businessmen,” he said coldly. “My marriage could improve both my and her father's positions. I could improve our standard of living, and the standard for all the people who work for either company. It's not just about me. Or her.”

Ryuko took another drag on her cigarette to stop herself from snapping back at him again. She didn't understand. Oh sure, she understood on some level that mutually beneficial arranged marriages were a thing that happened, especially within a wealthy, corporately significant family such as theirs, but she didn't like the removal of choice.

He didn't say anything else straight away, so she stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. He looked the same as he always did. Kinda gangly, but tall, with short hair which had a tendency to spike up in every direction, much to his mother's chagrin. He'd finished growing some years back, and now, at twenty, was pretty much settled into his adult body.

It was still kind of strange to think of him getting married. After all, she'd seen him grow up. 

Ryuko and Senketsu weren't siblings. Ryuko knew this, because Mrs Himura reminded her of the fact as often as she could. She got the feeling that there was no real malice behind the woman's actions, as she'd bought up Ryuko alongside her son for years without complaint. Without complaint, but with utter and total detachment.

But now that Senketsu was in a position to be of greater use to the family, his mother obviously thought that referring to the other person who lived in the house – the chain smoking, wise-cracking, hot tempered tearaway - as his _sister_ , was social suicide, now more than ever.

No, she'd always known that they weren't actually related. But despite this, and despite their odd situation in general, he was her best friend. Their relationship was unusual, not a sibling one, but a close one.

And she didn't like seeing him unhappy. It angered her like few other things did. Sure, she was snappy, and had what his parents referred to as “an unhelpful attitude”, but that was just her way of dealing with the world. Not much penetrated her armour and really riled her up. Seeing Senketsu upset was something that did.

So she reacted the only way she knew how to.

“Like you should give a shit about some company. This is _your life_ , Senketsu. You know the idea is to only get married once, right? And you want to throw that away?”

She knew it was the wrong thing to say, but the injustice of it was roiling in her blood. Why couldn't he see how unfair it was? 

He wasn't stupid. He was irritatingly calm, and logical, and easy to tease, but he wasn't slow. He was intelligent and clumsy, and exasperatingly gentle. When he'd been younger, he'd secretly tried to rescue baby birds that fell from their nests, placing them inside shoe boxes she'd stolen for him.

They'd always died.

And he'd cried about every one, even as she'd scolded him and told him that it had been inevitable. She hadn't wanted to be cruel, she just hated seeing him hurt, hated seeing him set himself up to get hurt. After he'd finished crying, he would shut himself in his room for a while, but she'd always get in through the window, and bring him some kind of present, to make him smile again.

She'd never learned how to say sorry, but that was because between the two of them, they'd never really needed the words.

She'd hated seeing him plunge into upsetting situations then, and she hated it now. But the thing that she hated most of all? She knew there was _nothing_ she could do to prevent it.

“I'm not like you, Ryuko,” he said finally. “You're free to do whatever you want. I owe my parents a lot, and I respect them. It would bring shame on them if I were to abandon the engagement.”

Words.

They made sense, but his voice was flat.

“So why come up here?” She said dully. “I can see you've got it all figured out. You obviously aren't looking for my advice, so you only came up here to hide. If you're that keen to carry out this weird fucking duty, get back down there.”

She saw the colour rise in his face, and steeled herself. She knew she was being brash, unkind, all the things she hated the most about herself.

He pushed his hand roughly through his hair and laughed humourlessly.

“You're right,” he said, “I don't know why I came up here. I should have known you'd be like this.”

“Well done,” she said nastily, blowing out another cloud of smoke, feeling sick to her stomach.

“You don't care about anyone apart from yourself,” he continued, in a voice which made her blood run cold, “and you don't understand a damned thing about responsibility to others. You're a brat.”

Hands shaking, she managed, “and here was I thinking I'd be the one to resort to name-calling first.”

“Stay up here,” he growled, “see if I care what you do. You're infuriating.”

And he _was_ angry, she realised in amazement. He was furious. And she'd never seen him so much raise his voice unduly since the age of sixteen. She'd made him angry.

Good.

“Maybe you should take some of that attitude you've found and sling it back where you need to,” she snarled, “like back in your parents' faces. No!” - she snapped as he tried to interject – “Don't give me any more shit, Senketsu, I know you. You don't want this and it won't make you happy. Just cut it out! Give me a break!”

“Oh, because this is all about you,” he muttered, low and mutinous, his face red.

She stubbed out her cigarette jerkily.

“This has shit-all to do with me,” she snapped, “except that I don't want to see you hurt, you fucking idiot.”

“What do you care?” He replied.

She was stunned. Horrified. Her words died in her throat, but he still had plenty.

“You don't care about me, Ryuko. Come on. All you care about is breaking rules and doing whatever you want. You don't care about anything.”

It wasn't true.

She broke rules, sure, if they were stupid rules. She worked out which ones were pointless and ignored them. She did what she wanted, sure, but not at the expense of people she cared about. She cared about some things. A lot.

“You asshole,” she whispered roughly, her throat sore, “of course I care about you.”

He seemed about to speak again, his normally calm expression frenzied, but she kept talking.

“You're an idiot, you always have been. You seem to love looking for ways to get hurt, because you listen to that stupid big heart of yours. So I had to be the harsh one, the one that scolded you, that tried to stop you from doing it again. But you always did. So call me a brat if you want, say I don't care, but I do. And this is the big one, isn't it? The big decision.”

He nodded.

She sighed.

“And it's just the same as always. I can't stop you. I never could. But this time I can't be there afterwards to-”

And suddenly it hit her. Everything she'd been trying to avoid thinking about ever since this whole arrangement discussion had begun, weeks before. He'd be gone. Without her. 

But he needed her to protect him! 

No, she realised, she needed him. To balance her. 

His leaving would break her heart.

She was shocked as tears sprang to her eyes, burning hot and seemingly unstoppable. She never cried. 

She was dimly aware of him moving to sit next to her, then his arm slinging around her shoulders. Unconsciously, she gripped at it, sniffing loudly in embarrassment.

He didn't say anything, but silently handed her a tissue from his other pocket. Despite her distress, she couldn't help snorting a laugh. What kind of person carried tissues?

She took it and blew her nose, then handed it back to him. He almost took it, then recoiled.

“God's sake, Ryuko. That's disgusting,” he laughed. She grinned and shoved the rag into her own pocket. They didn't need to apologise to each other. They never would.

“Nearly got ya,” she said weakly, and he tightened his arm around her shoulder. She let her eyes fall shut, blocking out all the rest of the shit in their lives for just a few moments.

They didn't speak for some time, even as the sun dropped lower in the sky. She shifted a few times until eventually they were slotted next to each other in a way that was comforting for both of them.

Their usual rules seemed not to apply, in this safe space. She lazily drew invisible patterns on the material of his jeans with her index finger, and he stroked her hair gently with the hand that was resting on her shoulder.

The tension and anger from their argument had drained away, but this between-time couldn't last, she knew that. Whatever this was, it would end. He would go back downstairs. He would choose a perfect, smiling face from an album. He would leave.

She became aware that he had spoken, and jerked back to reality.

“Huh?” She said, loath to move, but turning to face him. She swallowed, realising how close they were.

“I said, we're idiots,” he said ruefully. 

“Speak for yourself,” she scoffed, then gasped as his other hand came up, turning her head and pressing her lips to his, tentatively.

He pulled back, searching her face apprehensively. She gulped.

“OK, yeah, we're idiots,” she groaned, leaning in and capturing his mouth again, feeling him react and pull her closer. Yes, yes, _yes_.

“The stupidest,” he agreed, in a pause for breath, and she grumbled and pulled herself onto his lap, loving the way he jerked and whined at the contact.

“Biggest idiots,” she groaned, as the kisses deepened. Both of them suddenly realising just how much they wanted this, how hungry they were for it.

He paused, presumably to add a new description of their stupidity, but she stopped him with another kiss. 

“Enough,” she breathed against his mouth, smiling. She felt rather than saw his smile in return.

He slid a hand up her back and then stroked her hair, gently. She melted.

“You make me crazy,” he admitted, as she tucked herself against him. “No one else does that.”

She nipped gently at his neck at the words, to hide her blush. He grumbled wordlessly, pinching her side slightly in retaliation.

They calmed, cuddled together, starting to shiver slightly in the cooling air.

She stroked his face gently, and wondered privately just how long she'd been head over heels for him. She honestly couldn't remember. It had just grown over time.

Her heart sank suddenly.

“Your parents,” she said, but he cut her off, softly.

“You're worried about breaking some rules? How unlike you.”

She swatted at him.

“I'm worried about _you_ , you ass,” she mumbled. “Couldn't care less about what they think of me.”

Because one thing Ryuko had never bothered pondering was why Mr and Mrs Himura had adopted her. She'd been treated well, but always like a semi-welcome houseguest. She'd dismissed it as something that wasn't useful getting worried about. She was grateful to them, but wouldn't miss them.

“I'll be all right,” he said, hugging her tighter, “because I've always had this friend who looks out for me, and she taught me everything there is to know about not giving a shit.”

She let out a shocked laugh, but he just sighed, happily. She coloured, as words rose out of her, irrepressible.

“I love you.”

He groaned and leaned in to kiss her one more time, gently at first, then deeper as she rolled her body closer and strained towards him. They broke apart, breathing each other's air.

“I love you, too,” he muttered.

She pulled away and stood up, blushing. 

“So what now?” She said, trying to sound off-hand. 

He got to his feet next to her and brushed himself down, then reached for her, pulling her towards him.

“Let's find out.”


End file.
